I’ve pretty much set Mondays or Wednesdays as the day each week I spend time on my blog. The point of scheduling it is to keep myself aligned with my 2022 goal to write every week. It’s Monday, a blog day, and I’m uninspired. I don’t know if it’s because I was planning to write on Wednesday this week or because my day started oddly with meetings versus a workout, but I am just somehow just off my game. And I won’t be able to write this Wednesday because I’m now spending all day with Emma in Houston. I think I mistakenly thought I would have a few hours when she was busy, but her schedule changed, and she’s the priority. Sometimes I do move the schedule block and write on a different day, but with travels Tuesday, Thursday and other meetings Friday, this is my best window. Still, I’m a little stuck here at 3:30 in the afternoon, and so I’m trying to rationalize why and how to let myself off the hook.
I had actually brainstormed a couple of topics for this week. I considered writing about my Grandpa Ted given what’s happening on the world stage currently. He was Russian by birth and from Ukraine (The Ukraine then since it was a region of Russia). He came to the US in the 1920s, and it’s only a slight exaggeration to say that I exist because his blond hair and blue eyes fooled the Cossacks into thinking he was not Jewish. I didn’t write that blog because I cannot figure out how to tie the wonderful memories I have of my grandpa to a good reason for telling those stories now. I also thought about discussing climate change given the dire new UN report released today. I am often so frustrated by my inability to do meaningful work in this area – I do a lot of things to be a better steward of our climate, but it’s just too big a problem to have significant impact as an individual. That blog feels pretty mundane and lacking a conclusion too.
What’s interesting about my lack of inspiration is that it is presenting me with a dilemma I face frequently: give into my indulgent feelings of the moment or stay disciplined and fulfill a promise I made to myself –in this case about writing each week. I struggle with this same choice around food, alcohol, working out, and even sleeping later than I should on a weekday. I am not alone I know, but what is perhaps a bit more unique is just how rigid I can be about discipline. Most people who know me would tell you I am one of the most disciplined people they have ever met, and so while I know we all struggle with the choice to self-indulge or not, I am a bit more unique in how rarely I give into the desire, even when the only person truly affected is me. Sadly, and really only for me personally, I tend to equate self-indulgence with failure versus as freeing. I think I worry that one indulgence will lead to two, three, etc., and so I have a really difficult time making the decision that aligns with my feelings of the moment. Even while I stick to my guns, I realize how limiting and unbalanced it is to never let go of the rules I make for myself. And I know that letting go more often, especially where the consequences are small, would make for an easier, softer way of life.
It has not escaped me that by posting this entry, I am fulfilling my promise to write weekly for this week. I did spend a lot less time on this one than usual, so you might say I’m working on indulging myself? Let’s call it a baby step. Maybe next time I’ll be able to just give in and celebrate that choice.